


The How-To Manual

by E_Wills (orphan_account)



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:45:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9835388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/E_Wills





	

Women were a mystery—they were both terrifying and delightful masters of pleasure. Boys were enchanted by them from a young age, pondering the secrets behind coy glances, and what was hidden within their giggles. Songs were sung about them, and saucy tales swapped in mead halls of sex, happiness, and despair…all at the hands of a woman.

  
They could come undone with the right touch, or be woefully underwhelmed by even the most earnest attempts at foreplay. Hormones shifted, changing what they wanted and when they wanted it seemingly at random. This could leave even seasoned lovers reeling. How much easier men would have it if there was some kind of manual–a guidebook to ensure no well-meaning young man was ever inadequate? After all, what sweeter sound could there be than when a woman arched up and sighed–

  
“ _Hiccup…_ ”

  
The young dragon rider smiled.

  


Astrid’s fingers curled in his hair, pushing his head down as he brushed his lips over her clenching abdomen. She whimpered his name again, pleading. Needing him.

  
He sighed against her slick skin, feeling his body warming from the sultry heat between his lover’s legs, dripping against his own fingers. He planted a tender kiss on her inner thigh, biting gently when she squirmed.

  
“Nnhn! Tease,” she growled, releasing him and draping her arms over her eyes, as if ashamed of her lack of composure.

  
“I could stop,” Hiccup suggested, but Astrid peeked out from beneath her arms—a death glare, if he had ever seen one. He did not tell her he actually had no such intention. “Only if you told me to, Milady,” he amended.

  
“Why would I do that?” she asked. She jerked hips down against his fingers, biting her lip as he pressed his thumb against her clit. “Where else can I find hands like yours?”

  
“Hopefully, nowhere.” He pulsed his thumb over that tiny bundle of nerves, and Astrid inhaled sharply. She buried her face in his pillow while rolling her hips into his touch. “I’d be out of a job.”

  
Astrid gave a shaky laugh as she grasped the blanket, twisting it beneath her. She was mesmerizing to watch. Her entire body moved of its own volition, instinctively pushing and angling toward pleasure, breaking up the still and quiet of his bedroom. She was riding his fingers as much as he was thrusting them into her. Hiccup only hoped he was doing enough. Satisfying Astrid was a matter of trial and error; an ongoing lesson of the past few months.

  
Her breath came in short gasps, chest heaving, and Hiccup thought she rarely looked more beautiful than when she was in his bed, writhing. Her golden hair lay haphazardly over his pillow, surrounding her flushed face. Her lips were parted and her eyes stared aimlessly; unfocused and glazed under heavy lids. She radiated sexuality and Hiccup’s trapped erection twitched.

  
“You’re perfect,” he sighed, ducking between her legs and ignoring his own swelling need. His fingers worked, sliding along, and inside those delicate folds. Exploring. “I just…” But he never got the words out.

  
He succumbed for his desire to kiss her, running his tongue over that hidden pearl that made her cry out. Astrid’s rough hands found his hair again, tugging without mercy.

  
“You… _ahh!_ ” she mewled as he flicked his tongue to the same pace as his thumb—quick darts that had her speechless. She shoved his head closer to her sex, and his lips closed over that epicenter, his nose tickled by dark blonde curls. “Fu…huhh! Hicc–nnghn!”

  
If he became deaf to all other sounds but her ardent whimpers, he could die a happy man.

  
He enjoyed pleasuring her, tasting the erotic flavor of her womanhood. 

  


Astrid’s thighs trembled on either side of his face, as tempted to clench against him as they were to fall open in surrender. Hiccup sucked her clit gently, his fingers finding a new, faster rhythm in time with her urgent moans. He pushed his two busy digits further, curling his fingertips and rubbing experimentally, desperate to map every bit of her body.

  
She was his. All of her. By _her_  own volition.

  


 When had he become so lucky?

  
He wanted more time to play with her, but Astrid arched off the bed. Her head whipped back and forth, as the rest of her body tensed. She cried his name with a fervor that would have brought his dad running, had the man been in the house–Hel, had he been _anywhere_ on the island. 

  


Thankfully, that was not the case.

  
Hiccup was pleasantly startled, lapping his tongue over her as he fingered her through orgasm. He imagined his own throbbing length, squeezed possessively by tight, pink walls. He had only been blessed to feel that sensation—mutual climax—a handful of times. Astrid chose to err on the side of caution while she became better acquainted with contraceptive herbs. Hiccup could not complain, really. He was plenty satisfied with whatever he could take, whenever Astrid saw fit to give it to him. Coming  _inside_  her though? That was an unparalleled experience.

  
Astrid covered her face with her hands, toes curling and uncurling as little spasms wracked her thin frame. Her breathing slowed, and she spread her fingers, peering at her lover sheepishly like he had discovered some embarrassing new trigger—an easy shortcut to dissolve her into a mass of unbridled lust.

“Mmn, Hiccup…I guess you found it,” She giggled in her post-coital daze. With a languid stretch, she twisted strands of blonde hair with one hand and caressed his face with the other.

  
“What, this? I kind of already knew where _this_ was.” Hiccup quirked an eyebrow, withdrawing his fingers and tapping her clitoris pointedly. “You know…in case you missed that part/”

  
Astrid grinned. “No. _Inside._ That spot. That one spot…”

  
Hiccup breathed deeply as comprehension dawned on him, recalling her spontaneous release at the just right placement of his fingertips.

  
“ _That’s really a thing_?” he whispered, well aware of the mythical point of pleasure of which men reverently spoke. They mentioned it always with a sort of speculation or skepticism—like it was the missing page that would be most coveted in a how-to manual on fingering. If only it was _that_ simple…

  
Astrid furrowed her brow at him. “Yes, that’s really a thing! You didn’t know?”

  
“ _Who would’ve told me?_ ” Hiccup retorted.

  


 He could not exactly go to his father for advice on making love to a woman he should not yet be putting his hands on. Instead of tips and tricks, he would have received a disappointed lecture on his lack of responsibility and his recklessness. Maybe, at the very end, his dad would share something useful… but it would have been drowned out by embarrassment buzzing around in Hiccup’s brain. Sex talk? With _his_  dad?

  
“You hang out with Gobber enough–” Astrid began.

  
“Because _he_ would know about women?”

  
Astrid blinked, taken aback. Then, she snickered. “Oh. Right.”

  
Hiccup’s gaze flickered down to her sex, fascinated by the way it glistened, wet with arousal compounded with her release. There was n undeniable sense of pride, knowing he was the reason for it. 

  


Astrid drew her legs together, bashful under his obvious consideration. But Hiccup reached out, ghosting his fingertips over her toned thighs, feeling her gradually relax.

  
“Let me…figure this thing out,” he said, slipping his left hand between her legs. “Now I’m intrigued.”

  
Astrid rolled her eyes, but she complied, exposing herself to him. It had been weeks since she had been hesitant about doing so. There was a comfort and ease between them now whenever they were naked together that had not existed the first few times they had messed around. Insecurities were never voiced, but they had been there, dancing across their faces. In Hiccup’s opinion, he had far more to be self-conscious about than Astrid.

  
“Are men really that clueless?” she asked, frowning. “It’s a wonder you all figured out the right hole to–ahh…hhhnn… _mmppf!_ “

  
Hiccup silenced her with a kiss, sliding his tongue past her lips as he filled her with his fingers. His cock ached at the familiar warmth.

  


 “Not all of us,” he breathed against her mouth.

  
Astrid gripped his shoulders, fingernails digging little crescents into his skin. Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip, and her moans hung thick and tremulous in the limited space between them. She was already shaking, twisting her hips and arching toward him. Nerves, still thrumming from climax and lust, were further stimulated by Hiccup’s relentless probing. He buried his other hand in her hair, guiding her head closer as his tongue claimed her mouth with all the same forcefulness as his confident fingers.

  
He could not get enough of Astrid, high off her desire. She was his get lost in, and he needed indulge her; fulfill every fantasy so she never had cause to be disappointed. If that enigmatic spot was real, he would find it again. He had to learn everything about her body–know every possible way to inflame her passion for him.

  
His fingertips curled like before and she shuddered. He felt it course through her entire being: a testimony of ecstasy against his skilled hand. Her lips parted with a soft gasp, and her eyes shut tight as she held on to him with desperation. Hiccup grinned into the corner of her mouth, thrusting and rubbing his fingers against that internal point of concentrated euphoria.

  
“Hicc…up,” she panted, relinquishing her rigid need for control to him. 

  


She was responsive to his touch, beautifully manipulated. Her breath hitched when he twisted his fingers, and she made throaty love sounds when he hit that miraculous spot. She nearly sobbed when he teased her clit again.

  
Hiccup did not expect her to come after one spectacular finish already, but he worked her like she would. He was harder than he could remember being in recent memory, and every passionate sigh of his name was a bolt of arousal straight to cock. 

  


Astrid had taken the herbs, he knew, but she had been reluctant to go further, as usual. So, he was bent over her, making love to her with his hands instead. He assumed she would return the favor with her inviting lips and talented tongue. There was no rush, though. He could wait a bit longer, enjoying the way her hips both gyrated toward and shied away from his busy fingers.

  
She had let go of him, falling back against the pillow and scratching at the headboard.

  
Hiccup held his fingers there, on that spot. He brushed against it in an alternating rhythm with his thumb, which rolled indolent little circles over her clit. Astrid was a glorious mess of unintelligible noise. It was poetry to Hiccup. He would stop tormenting her soon, before she started begging…but he was thrilled with his new discovery. In some future afternoon romp, he intended to use his learned strokes.

  
Astrid’s whole body quivered and thrashed. Hiccup began to slow his movements, lest she berate him for teasing her. He turned his wrist for one last hook of his middle finger, massaging that wondrous spot with a firm pressure–and she came.   


Hiccup forgot how to breathe.

  
Thor Almighty, Astrid was coming _again._

  
Hers was an urgent cry—a spastic rise and fall of her chest preceding the contracting of her sex and the aggressive bucking of her hips. Hiccup felt her sensual fluids dripping over his hand and flash-boiling his blood with lust. Gods _damn._  His fingers moved with renewed purpose, milking her core for every last shudder of orgasm.

  
Her hand flew to his bare torso, sliding over his skin in adoration. Her fingertips traced invisible constellations along his clavicle. He was her anchor—the only thing tangible when pleasure consumed the world. He was the only thing that made sense in a moment when thinking had no place.

  
Astrid’s eyes fluttered open, locking onto his face. His name was an inaudible twitch of her lips. They both were frozen, stunned by the enormous step forward in intimacy. Things were different now—would be different. Hiccup had a whole new understanding of his lover and sex, achieved by nothing more than the curious venturing of his fingers.

  
“Astrid,” he whispered–a plea; a hope for something more; permission to dive over the edge of the cliff they were flirting with; to throw caution to the wind.

  
Her eyes traveled slowly down to his crotch, tongue wetting her lips. Hiccup prayed. Astrid’s gaze lingered on the conspicuous bulge before snapping back to his face. Whatever hunger he felt was reflected in her expression. She was not at all vague in the way she pulled at the lacings of his tight pants.   


There were no other concerns but their mutual, raging desire.

  
They paused for a beat—enough time to reconsider and for responsibility to intrude. But it would not.

  


A seemingly infinite moment passed as they reflected on their need for each other.

  
Then lust devoured them, and sex was all there was, and all that mattered. There was haste to their movements. A purpose. A mutual goal.

  
Hiccup withdrew his fingers from her, sucking them clean as Astrid freed his stifled cock. He moaned with relief, and rolled his pants down to bunch around his knees. To completely take them off, he needed to remove his prosthetic leg. At that moment, he did not have the patience for it.

  
“Come here,” he murmured—a soft demand.

  
Astrid struggled to reposition herself. She was still wobbly from the assault on her nerves. Hiccup gently held her thin wrists, guiding her towards him until their bodies molded together. Then, it was as if a storm unfurled over Hiccup’s skin—a heady rush as he touched her with more than his hands.

  
They kissed, hot and open-mouthed, tongues brushing and teasing until their yearning ran together and overflowed.

  
Astrid moved first, turning around and falling to all fours. Hiccup wasted no time, filling her with the length of him. He slipped inside easily, aided by her abundantly wet heat.

  
“Oh _gods,_ ” he hissed, with an automatic roll of his hips. It was incredible–impossibly better every time.

  
He heard Astrid’s shattered exhale, and felt the subtle backwards thrust of her hips. He did not know how she did it–withstood multiple orgasms. He felt like he might die after a single good one, to be honest. But still, Astrid wanted more of him. Hiccup was beyond surprised. Flattered too, really.

  
And _excited._

  
Yes. He was excited as he looped an arm around her, pulling her back until her back was flush against his chest. They were both on their knees, and he had her by the enticing curve of her waist. His other hand fondled her breast, toying with a hardened nipple as he moved. He did not know if he could reach that spot inside of her at that angle, but it was divine regardless. The way his hips dug into the soft flesh of her ass, and the way he could breathe in her ear, bringing goosebumps to her pale skin…he lived for it. And dragons.

  
Sex and dragons. Apparently, Hiccup had a fascination with things that could burn him.

  
“I’m not…I won’t last,” he rasped against her neck. “Astrid, mmn…can I–?”

  
“Yes.” Her hand found his–the one on her waist–and escorted it between her thighs. “I took–haah aaahhh–precautions. Do it. Babe, I want you to…”

  
His fingers moved frantically–newly  _clean_ fingers, but he did not care. He could have traces of Astrid all over him–her sweat, her scent, her hair. All of it.

  
His hips rocked in a steady, controlled pulse—much different than their first uncoordinated, fumbling attempts at making love. Astrid squirmed against him in an alluring dance against his body and his cock. It only made him go faster and harder, something he suspected was completely intentional on her part.

  
Little yelps escaped Astrid’s throat, and she reached back to grab a handful of his ass, kneading it as she forced him closer. Hiccup wanted to melt into her. He kissed everywhere he could reach: her shoulder, her neck, the crown of her head. All the while, he thrust into her perfect sex like he was dying of thirst, and she was his water. 

  


Astrid tensed against him. Her body shook with minute tremors that he might have previously disregarded, not even thinking multiple orgasms were possible. If he had only known, one would simply have not been acceptable. However many she could stand was how many he wanted to give her—that time, and every time to follow. He never wanted to stop fucking her; he wanted time to freeze and his existence to comprise of nothing else. It was bliss, satisfying down to his soul, for he loved her with every fiber of himself. But he recognized the telltale signs of her impending climax now. She was teetering on that edge and his fingers flicked faster between her clenching thighs.

  
Hiccup closed his eyes as she shouted his name, letting the sound ricochet through his veins and collide with the pleasure coursing his body. It triggered his own release. His head fell back with a long, broken moan as he filled his heated girlfriend with his seed. There was no thought to the snap of his hips–no higher brain function devoted to anything. There was only him and Astrid, and the deep-seated need to bury himself inside her, over and over again until there was nothing left of him.

  
She was the first to collapse, bending over on her hands and knees. Her long hair was plastered to her damp back and cascaded down to hide her face. Hiccup sagged against her, his body still tingling with the last few ripples of ecstasy.

  
They were both shaking, breathing raggedly.

  
“Hiccup…” Astrid said in a small, weary voice.

  
“Hmn?”

  
“This means…you have to step up your game from now on.” She started to snicker–halfhearted wheezes beneath him.

  
He laughed, pressing his face into her shoulder.

  
“I accept your challenge, Milady.”

  
If women really were such a mystery, then Hiccup had just uncovered a great deal about his lover. They were truths he would safeguard, and use the their mutual benefit.

  
Perhaps he did not need a how-to manual after all.


End file.
